


these damn rich people

by flamefenrir2003



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A little, A lot - Freeform, BAMF Yuri Plisetsky, Crack Treated Seriously, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, He's an idiot too, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Teenagers, Typical Shenanigans, Yuri Plisetsky Is A Little Shit, Yuri Plisetsky Swears, Yuri is surrounded by idiots, but its okay, cursing, still working on my tag game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamefenrir2003/pseuds/flamefenrir2003
Summary: After his Grandfather gets into a accident, seventeen year old Yuri Plisetsky finds himself in the care of married idiots Viktor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov all the way in Japan. Only to find himself somehow standing in front of the gates of Ouran High School, enrolled as a regular student.In which Viktor has too much money in his hands and is willing to pay Yuri's tuition, Yuuri is a supportive dad/big brother and all Yuri wants is to kill everyone."How do you even accidentally join a host club?!" Katsudon asked incredulously.Yuri just shrugged, looking a little helpless.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri Plisetsky & Potya | Puma Tiger Scorpion, Yuri Plisetsky & Yuri Plisetsky's Family
Comments: 20
Kudos: 193





	these damn rich people

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran Highschool Host Club or Yuri on Ice. I only own my OCs and the plot. 
> 
> Hey guys,  
> I've been thinking about writing this story for a while now, after reading Valravn_Wyntrs's Yuri!!! at OURAN. So yeah, you could say it's somewhat inspired from their fic but not the same obviously. Go show them love if you like this story!
> 
> Another thing, I've decided to fiddle around with some of the ages in this story for plot convenience. In this, there is a 9 year age difference between Yurio and Yuuri. Which means as of the beginning of this story, Yurio is seventeen, Yuuri is 26 and Viktor is 30. Something I've changed a little as well is the ages of the Host Club members (aged them up by one year). I know high school first years are 15 but in this story Haruhi and the twins will be 16 and so on. 
> 
> Yurio-17  
> Yuuri-26  
> Viktor-30  
> Haruhi-16  
> Hikaru-16  
> Kaoru-16  
> Tamaki-17  
> Kyoya-17  
> Honey-18  
> Mori-18
> 
> And now, without further ado, the story!

It’s pink.

All of it’s pink.

Make no mistake, Yuri didn’t have anything against the color but the fact was that there was so much pink in this place that it was to the point of being obnoxious.

Obnoxious.

Everything about this school was obnoxious. From the shimmering chandeliers to the lavish décor, all Yuri could see was extravagance. He knew this was a posh school but seriously. This was too much. Rich people were weird.

A flash of silver invaded his mind and he grimaced.

Yeah, _all_ rich people were weird.

“Hey, Yurio? You okay?”

A familiar voice spoke beside him and Yuri looked down in to the worried of his older namesake. Yuuri had offered to drop Yuri off to Ouran on his first day school, seeing as Yuri was two seconds away from bodily harming Viktor. Yuri respected Viktor, grudgingly yes, but the man was too much at times.

It seemed that Katsudon understood though, for he’d quickly ushered an irritated Yuri out the door and into their car. It was at times like this Yuri appreciated the tact of the older skater. Sure they were obnoxious with their lovey-dovey stuff and more than half the time Yuri wanted to vomit, but Yuuri had been instrumental in making sure Yuri was comfortable here in Japan.

It hadn’t been easy, but both Yuuri and surprisingly Viktor had stepped up.

“I’m fine, Katsudon.” He sighed. “No need to pick me up after school. I’ll meet you guys at the rink.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri frowned slightly. “It’s not a problem.”

“I’ll be _fine,_ Katsudon. Stop being a worrywart.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “It’s just school.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at the rink then.” Yuuri looked like he wanted to argue but he kept his mouth shut. Yuri appreciated the thought. “Take care, okay? I’ll help you out with homework later.”

“Thanks.” Yuri nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Yurio.”

With that Yuuri drove off and Yuri watched as the car rounded around a corner. He stood there a few minutes, silently watching the car disappear. Honestly if his fourteen year old self had been how civil he was being with Katsudon, he’d have thrown a fit. But after everything, after all of the support Katsudon and Viktor had given him, Yuri knew for a fact he couldn’t hate them.

That and he’d mellowed out over the years.

Part of it had been Beka’s influence, the older skater calming his infamous temper. The other had been a particularly, ahem, _revealing_ screaming match with Katsudon.

After everything, more than angry, Yuri felt tired.

He liked Yuuri, he could tolerate the exuberant Viktor and he got along well with Yuuko and Katsudon’s family, but Yuri still missed Russia. He missed his old rink, he missed Yakov and Lilia, he missed Moscow and he missed Gran-

Yuri sucked in a harsh breath.

He missed Grandpa.

Yuri remembered it like yesterday.

It had been an ironic twist of fate that both Yuri and Katsudon had gotten the Rostelecom Cup in Moscow once more. Though this time, they’d travelled there together. Yuri had been more than excited to see his Grandpa again and so much so that he’d been feeling particularly generous towards Katsudon. So much so that he’d invited Katsudon to eat his Grandpa’s heavenly pirozhki.

It was only after his free skate that Yuri got the call.

He’d fallen down a flight of stairs at work, his Grandpa, and he’d hurt his back really, really bad. He wasn’t waking up and when they thought Yuri wasn’t listening they told Yakov and Yuuri, there was little chance of his waking up. And even if he did, it was unlikely that he’d be able to move like he did before.

All those details came after, after Yuri had seen the unconscious body of his Grandpa, after he and Katsudon had rushed over there. All that he’d caught of Yakov’s grieving words was _Grandpa, hurt and hospital._

And he’d run.

Where he didn’t know but he’d run off, straight off the ice, in his skates. Thankfully he’d already put his skate guards on but in the end it didn’t matter. Yuri didn’t care. All of it, all of the winning, the medals had been for Grandpa- it was all useless without him.

This ungrateful Yuri, who’d left his aging Grandpa.

Yakov tried to stop him, telling him they still needed to go to the Kiss and Cry, to receive his scores and the awarding ceremony but Yuri hadn’t cared. He’d shouted at Yakov to let go of him, to let him leave even if meant screaming at his coach on live television.

When everything seemed bleak and it seemed Yakov would indeed not let Yuri leave before the end of the competition, it was in that moment that help came from the most unlikely person.

Katsudon had stepped in between his coach and Yuri with the expression on his face harder than anything Yuri had ever seen. It was same for Yakov, the old man taken aback. There had been an odd grief in the older man’s eyes and he’d turned to Yuri, telling him to not worry.

Yuri could have hugged him.

“I’ll take you there myself if I have to.” He reassured Yuri, eyes still fixed on Yakov. “Nothing, _nothing,_ matters more than family.”

Yakov had flinched.

He let them leave.

Later Yuri would realize that Yuuri too had missed the awarding ceremony in their rush to get to the hospital. Thankfully their sponsors and fans had been understanding and there hadn’t been much backlash.

But all Yuri could remember in his worry was a pair of warm arms encircling him and reassuring him that everything would be fine, that his Grandpa would be fine. At some point, he’d been led away by hand to the side and a pirozhki had been placed in front of him. He’d looked up at Katsudon, who spared him a tired smile.

He’d passed out by his Grandpa’s side and had been dully awoken by the voices speaking at the doorway of the hospital room. It seemed Yuuri was talking with the doctor. Yuri didn’t open his eyes, knowing Yuuri would try to shield him from the truth. Yuri needed to know, he needed to know how big he’d messed up.

Surgery, they said.

Grandpa needed surgery to heal properly. Only it was expensive. It was far more expensive than anything Yuri could hope to win with his prize money. He’d swallowed.

“Yuri? I know you’re awake.”

Yuri didn’t lift his head from where it rested cradled in his Grandpa’s hand, unable to look at the older. There was no way Yuri could gather that much money in time. It was all his fault. If he’d been better, if he’d earned more, if he’d been _there_ then-

“ _Yuri.”_

Yuri finally looked up into familiar brown eyes. He’d hated them at one point but in those moments, the steadiness in them only reassured him. Yuuri looked determined.

“It’s not your fault.” Yuuri had stressed. “Don’t worry. Your Grandpa will be okay.”

He’d choked out a shaky, _ho_ w _?_

Yuuri smiled wryly. “You’re forgetting who I’m married to.”

(_)(_)(_)(_)

Viktor had paid for his Grandpa’s surgery, taking up all of the expenses. Yuri had protested, or attempted to do so, only for Yuuri of all people to silence him.

“We want to help, Yurio.” He told him. “This is the best way how.”

If Yuri had hugged him in relief, tears pooling in his eyes, well both Yuris resolved to never mention it ever again. Viktor had arrived with Lilia in tow the next day, and as hard as it was for Yuri to look at Yakov right now, he’d still appreciated the man’s presence. Viktor took one look at him and melted.

“ _Oh Yurochka.”_

Later Yuri would hate to be indebted to Viktor of all people, but in those moments, the flash of familiar silver hair had Yuri choking up tears. Beka had called him no less than thirteen times and left him dozens of messages alongside many of the other skaters Yuri had come to know over the years. Yuri hadn’t called back until he was alone.

But Grandpa didn’t wake up, even after the surgery and the doctors told Yuri all they could do was wait for now. Yuri had steeled himself, knowing it had been long coming. But that didn’t lessen the blow any less.

Somewhere along the way, between custody and his skating career, Yuri had been passed off to Viktor and Yuuri. It probably that to do with the fact that Yuri could barely stand looking at Yakov, despite knowing the man had had his reasons and he’d felt much more comfortable with Yuuri.

Yakov was a good friend of his Grandpa. Yuri knew he’d been terribly worried.

But it was still hard to face the man and after a long talk with Lilia, he’d chosen to go to Japan with Viktor and Yuuri, with Viktor acting as his temporary coach. Lord knew he had the qualifications and now that he was retired, he had the time too.

And here he was now, standing before a large building, watching as the tires of Yuuri’s car rolled away. He’d had time to grieve, to recover and to move on. He’d believe in his Grandpa. His Grandpa was strong.

Viktor had insisted about paying for this school and after seeing the tuition fee Yuri had gladly agreed. It was still a lot even after Yuri had been award a partial sports scholarship. He’d have been happy attending a normal one or being homeschooled but Yuuri of all people had put his foot down.

“You should make friends your own age, Yurio.” He told Yuri. “Don’t worry too much about your grades though, I’ll help out if you need me.”

Which was how the two had spent learning Japanese for the next few months. Yuuri had praised him, telling him his Japanese had greatly improved from short phrases over the course of the last few months. He could talk easily, albeit with an accent and could write decently. He had to admit Yuuri was a good teacher, even when he doubted himself at times.

Yuri sighed, turning back to blink at the large doors. Pink as well.

_Grandpa, I think Viktor found a school as obnoxious as him._

He walked inside, switching his sneakers for some indoor shoes and ignored the obvious stares of the other students. He resisted the urge to groan. Everywhere he looked there was a mix of pink, lavender and a frankly horrendous shade of yellow.

If anyone asked Yuri was very glad he was male. Very, very much.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in the abomination that was the girl’s uniforms.

Thankfully, a trip during the admission process had familiarized him with the area and Yuri found the reception easily enough. He leaned over the desk, looking at the attendant who smiled cordially at him.

“How may I help you?” She asked formally.

“I’m new. My name is Yuri Plisetsky.” Yuri replied. “I was told to check in here.”

“Ah! Yuri Plisetsky, you must be the new exchange student.” Her eyes widened in realization. “One moment please, let me get your schedule. Your class president will accompany you to your class.”

“ _Da,_ Thank you.”

Yuri watched as the woman dialed in a set of numbers and talked to someone over the phone, simultaneously printing his schedule. She was quick about it, which Yuri appreciated and a few minutes later, she was smiling up at Yuri kindly.

“Here you go.” She handed him his schedule. “Ootori-kun will be arriving in a few minutes. If you have any problems feel free to come to me or Ootori-kun. He will be your guide. Any questions?”

Yuri shook his head. “ _Nyet,_ Thank you.”

She smiled. “A pleasure.”

Yuri didn’t get a chance to look at his schedule as a tall raven sauntered over to him. Glasses clad eyes gave him a well-practiced smile, and raised a hand for him to shake.

“Kyoya Ootori, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Yuri took his hand, shaking it quickly.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” He mumbled, slowly mouthing the words Yuuri had instructed him to say. “I’m in your care.”

Kyoya’s sharp eyes scanned Yuri up and down, before he broke in to another smile. Yuri was immediately on guard. This was a purposeful smile- a smile that had a plan behind. It was a smile Yuri had seen aplenty on slimy sponsors and oddly Viktor when he tried to get Yuri to do something for him. Yuri decided he needed to be careful of the guy.

_Damn these rich people._

“Let’s get going then.” Kyoya let go of his hand and gave the receptionist a gracious nod before turning away. Yuri flashed the woman a smile- she reminded him of Yuuko- but was stopped by a voice.

“Oh Plisetsky-kun?” Yuri turned around in surprise. The woman gave him a kind smile.

“Welcome to Ouran High School.”

Yuri gave her a tried grin before following after Kyoya. He had a feeling today was going to be very exhausting.

(_)(_)(_)(_)

“So Plisetsky-kun, I hear you’re from Russia?”

“Call me Yuri. I’m still not used to last names.”

“As you wish, Yuri.”

Kyoya asked him, after giving him a casual run down of the school and his schedule. Yuri had frowned. Apparently of going class to class like in Russia, it was the teachers who came to the classroom. When he’d asked Kyoya why, the raven had looked thoughtful before answering Yuri.

“I suppose it’s a way to avoid a human stampede during recess.”

Breaking out his thoughts, Yuri answered Kyoya quickly, only to realize he’d instinctively replied in Russian when the class president raised an amused eyebrow.

“Ah, sorry. Yeah, I’m Russian.”

“Oh?” Kyoya asked offhandedly. “And why are you here? So far away from home?”

Though Kyoya had asked him casually, Yuri was immediately on guard. There was a reason he wasn’t parading around in any random school. His fans were anywhere and everywhere, and the only reason he’d even agreed to attending Ouran in the first place was to avoid them. He loved his fans, they were his supporters, but then there were the weirder ones too.

Either way, Yuri wasn’t too keen on revealing about his skating career. Especially if it was to a sly bastard like Kyoya.

In answer, Yuri just shrugged helplessly and though Kyoya’s eyes sharpened at the lack of answer, he didn’t pry. Well it was more like he didn’t have the time to, for he was suddenly assaulted by a blonde that looked way to foreign to be fully Japanese. Then again, what did he know?

“Kyoyaaaaa!” The blonde wailed in a manner not unlike to Viktor, hanging from his friend’s shoulders. In fact, it was only because Yuri was used to Viktor’s antics that he didn’t flinch. “Where were you? You disappeared suddenly! I thought Nekozawa kidnapped you!”

Yuri resisted the urge to growl at the annoying voice and he watched as Kyoya’s practiced smile flicker into something more strained. He resisted the urge to snicker. It was clear that he was annoyed.

“Are you still on that, Tamaki?” The blonde, Tamaki as Kyoya put it, pouted at his friend’s dismissive tone. “I’ll repeat it again, you’re not cursed.”

“But Kyoyaa!” Tamaki whined, not noticing Yuri at all. Yuri tapped his foot show his impatience and Kyoya’s eye twitched. “I stepped on Belzenof!”

“You stepped on him last year Tamaki. He’s a puppet. I’m sure if there was any curse, it would have worn out by now.” Kyoya reassured him.

Meanwhile Yuri just watched them, gawking slightly. Maybe he wasn’t as good at as Japanese as he’d initially thought but, were they really arguing over being cursed by a puppet? Yuri had seen his fair share of doll horror movies but he’d never heard of a puppet. He’d also never seen a dumbass stupid enough to fear a curse.

Sure Viktor was a scaredy cat but at least he had the decency to hide it.

Yuri sighed, his familiar temper flaring up. It had been a while since he’d been this irritated. Oh wait, it had only been a few hours. And he’d been mad at Viktor. Tamaki reminding him of stupid Viktor didn’t help matters. This was annoying.

“Hey.” He barked, stepping forward and glaring at the duo. “If you’re done flirting in the middle of the hallway, can we get to class?”

“F-Flirting!” To his credit Tamaki looked scandalized. At least the guy had some self-awareness. Only to dash Yuri’s hopes when he opened his mouth. “You call that flirting? What a sad life you’ve lived, my friend!”

“I’m not your friend, you idiot.” Well there went any hopes of making friends.

“Of course you are, Mr-” Tamaki paused, and Yuri could literally see the gears of his head turn. He closed his mouth and turned to Kyoya. “Hey Kyoya, who is this gentleman?”

Kyoya sighed in suffering. “This is Yuri Plisetsky. He will be joining us this year.”

Tamaki brightened.

“A new classmate. Oh what a wonderful day! What a joyous day! To be graced with yet another presence-”

Really, what was this guy? He was an obnoxious mix of Viktor and Georgi. Yuri was regretting this more and more.

“You know what? Fuck it.” Yuri said in irritation, turning away. “I’ll find the damn class myself. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

Before either of them could stop the Russian, Yuri was off glancing at the signs on the doors and mumbling as he clutched his schedule between his fingers. Any hesitance he might’ve had was drowned out by his irritation was he walked down the hallways.

It didn’t take him long to find the right room and he walked in. As soon as the doors slid open, the classroom became silent. Yuri ignored it, instead walking over to his designated seat. To his dismay, it was right beside Kyoya’s. How did he know that?

Well these damn rich person had placed a freaking _plaque_ with each person’s name in front of their respective desks.

Was this where his tuition money went?

He ignored the hush whispers that erupt as soon as he sat down and instead pulled his headphones out of his bag. His sports bag lay at his feet, tucked away where not many could see it. But the music didn’t stifle the loud gasps that came when two familiar people entered the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blonde and mustered the scariest glare he had. The one he’d used to intimidate Katsudon when he first met him. He looked up and everyone fell silent and Tamaki, who’d been fast approaching him froze.

It didn’t take a genius to realize what Yuri was indirectly saying.

Unfortunately, Kyoya looked completely undeterred, walking over to his desk beside Yuri’s. He placed his case in its holder before turning to give Yuri a look.

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t run off like that again, Yuri. We wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

“Walk faster then.”

Kyoya’s smile strained a little but he didn’t reply, instead turning over to look at Tamaki. “Tamaki, you’re blocking the path. Sit down.”

“Oh? Oh! Of course, Kyoya.”

Yuri just ignored the chatter of the students around him in favors of browsing on his phone and listening to his music. He had plenty of practice ignoring people, especially the idiot Viktor and stupid JJ. Oh, how he wished to crush them.

He didn’t have to wait long, as their teacher entered soon. He looked down at his schedule and bit down a groan.

Oh great, Japanese Literature first thing in the morning.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

After a few hours of serious struggling and almost all of his notes written in an odd mix of Russian, what little Japanese he knew, and English, Yuri closed his notebook tiredly. This was some next level torture. It was already hard enough learning the concepts and he had to understand it all in a different language to boot.

At least Katsudon had promised to help him. Thank god for small mercies.

It was as he stood up to leave for the cafeteria that the message came.

**From: Beka**

_How’s it going? It’s your first day isn’t it?_

**To: Beka**

_Shitty at best. Everything’s_ pink.

**From: Beka**

_Come on. I’m sure it’s not that bad._

**To: Beka**

_You try attending school with a completely different language._

**From: Beka**

_Touché._

**From: Beka**

_But cheer up. It’s just the first day right? Maybe you’ll make friends. Did you meet anyone?_

**To: Beka**

_Not likely, I’m surrounded by rich assholes. One’s Georgi and Viktor’s lovechild and the other is a sly bastard. All the others keep fucking staring at me._

**From: Beka**

_Well that seems…interesting?_

**To: Beka**

_Really, Beka? Really?_

**From: Beka**

_Oh come off it. I’m trying to be nice._

“So, cuteee!”

Yuri didn’t realize he was grinning until a voice near him let out an annoying squeal. Looking up, he felt dread pool inside him as a familiar blonde approached him. Yuri didn’t get a chance to push the blonde away as Tamaki leaned forward, only inches away from his face. He yelped and instinctively pushed Tamaki’s face away.

“What the _fuck.”_ He breathed out, looking at a groaning Tamaki with wide eyes. As much as he hated it, seeing Tamaki on the floor made him feel like he’d overreacted and Yuri reluctantly gave him a hand.

The parasite seemed to brighten up instantly and he took up the offer. He pulled him up to his feet, watching him awkwardly. As long as he wasn’t hurt anywhere, Yuri could move on. But before he could leave, a long hand wrapped around his shoulders.

“Ne, Yuri, who were you texting that made you smile like that?” Tamaki’s voice rang into his ear and Yuri resisted the urge to smack him away. Calm down Yura, bodily harming someone other than Viktor can have consequences.

_Don’t lose your temper, don’t lose your temper._

Wait, texting?

Yuri’s eyes widened and he turned back to his phone. The blonde parasite leaned over to glance at his screen but it was all in Russian so it wasn’t as if he could read anything. And Yuri was too used to Viktor clinging to him to be bothered by the arm, even if he felt irritated.

**From: Beka**

_Yuri? You there?_

**To: Beka**

_Yeah, sorry. I got assaulted by a blonde parasite._

**From: Beka**

_…I don’t even want to ask._

**To: Beka**

_It’d be better if you don’t_

**To: Beka**

_I have to leave for now. Gotta get lunch._

**From: Beka**

_Sure, I’ll talk to you later. Go eat._

“Yuriii!” Tamaki whined into his ear. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Yuri flinched, eyes widening at how similar Tamaki had sounded to Viktor. _These two aren’t distantly related are they? Tamaki looks French, does Viktor have French relatives somewhere?_

“Go away.” Yuri grumbled.

**To: Viktor**

_Hey old man, you have French relatives?_

Viktor, the damn idiot replied instantly.

**From: Viktor**

_Yurrrioooooooooo!!! How’s your first day? You left so suddenly, I would’ve come with you!_

**From: Viktor**

_And yes, why?_

Fucking knew it.

**From: Viktor**

_Yurio? Why won’t you reply?_

**From: Viktor**

_Yuriooo! Don’t ignore me!_

**From: Viktor**

_Yurrrriooooooo!_

Yuri rolled his eyes and placed his phone away, choosing to look at the people now inhabiting his table. Tamaki had stopped harassing him in favors of flirting with some girls. Yuri scowled, picking up his bag and leaving.

“Wait, Yuri? Yuri!”

He ignored the teen and strode out of the cafeteria. He’d been planning to eat inside but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Viktor 2.0. He didn’t need to buy anything either, since he had brought his own lunch from home. He was glad he did, after seeing the ridiculous prices of the lunch options. Yuri was on an athlete’s diet anyways, so none of them would suit him anyways. He looked around the gardens for a place to eat, but to his dismay there wasn’t any good place to sit (read: hide).

It was as he was going to give up and return to the classroom for lunch that he came across a small clearing tucked away to the side. He grinned. It was private enough for him to not be disturbed. As he walked in, he realized too late that it was already inhabited.

“Oh, sorry.”

Yuri looked down at a small brown haired boy. When he looked up, Yuri resisted the urge to snicker since the boy looked like an exact replica of high school Katsudon, save for the brown hair. How did Yuri know? Well Katsudon’s mom had shown him plenty of photos. Yuri had left the onsen a changed man, one with plenty of blackmail. Looking closer, the boy had a bento too, indicating that his lunch was homemade as well.

He wasn’t wearing the school uniform, making Yuri frown slightly. If he’d known he could do that, he’d have never worn this stupid uniform.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” The boy reassured him. “You’re having lunch too right? Please ignore me.”

“I couldn’t.” Yuri felt awkward. It was hard to be polite. He’d never reigned his words back- he’d never had the need to. But it was situations like these that threw him off most. “I’ll leave.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Please sit down.”

Yuri hesitated before plopping down opposite to the boy. The boy gave him a small smile. “My name is Haruhi Fujioka. I’m in 1-A.”

“Yuri Plisetsky. 2-A.”

Haruhi suppressed a chuckle. “Not a man of many words? It’s nice to meet you, senpai.”

“ _Da,_ same for me.”

They descended into a comfortable silence after that. Haruhi was a quiet person, something Yuri greatly appreciated after a day of obnoxious blondes and irritating class presidents. He didn’t bother him at all, even when Yuri finished his food and pulled out his homework.

For some odd reason the lunch break was an hour and a half long and frankly Yuri didn’t understand how people could spend more than fifteen minutes for lunch of all things. Dinner could be longer, but lunch?

“Um, Yuri-senpai, do you need help?”

Ah, so he’d noticed him struggling with his work.

“ _Da,_ I’m afraid my Japanese still isn’t all that good.”

“Oh so you’re really foreign?” Yuri raised an eyebrow, causing the boy to blush slightly. “I assumed from the name.”

“Russian.” Yuri grunted.

“Wow.” Haruhi snapped out of his thoughts quickly. “If you don’t mind, I can help?”

Yuri glanced at him in surprise. “What? Why? Wait, aren’t you my junior?”

To his credit Haruhi rolled his eyes, unaffected by his disbelief. “It won’t be hard to translate what you don’t understand for you. You know English, right?”

“I do, I know it as well as Russian.”

“Then there you have it.” Haruhi pulled out a notebook. “Mine isn’t bad either. If anything, it’ll be good practice for next year.”

“Are you sure?” Yuri asked him, doubtfully.

He wouldn’t be lying if he said he wasn’t aching for some help right about now. Why was the curriculum in Japanese in the first place? Aren’t these the heirs of international companies? Shouldn’t they be speaking in English instead?

“Yeah, sure. Unless you don’t want to.”

“No! No.” Yuri scowled down at the messy kanji on his notebook. “To be honest, I really need the help.”

Haruhi chuckled when he got a look at Yuri’s messy notes. “Yeah, I can tell.’

(_)(_)(_)(_)

Haruhi was an angel who helped him finish the majority of his work in time for his class, which meant Yuri didn’t have to go to Kyoya for help. He still struggled with the rest of his classes, studiously ignored the interested gaze of one Kyoya Ootori and the pouting Tamaki. It was kinda scary how similar he was to Viktor.

It didn’t take Yuri long to realize Haruhi was a girl.

Though the girl looked like a boy through and through, Yuri was someone who could easily tell someone’s gender. He competed in a men’s sport with a feminine body. He of all people could tell. As for why Haruhi was dressed as a body, Yuri didn’t ask. It didn’t seem like something he should ask her.

Instead he rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair before bidding her goodbye.

Which brought him to now.

“Haruhi!” He said. “You okay?”

The small girl groaned slightly and Yuri poked at her head lightly. He didn’t think he’d see her again this soon.

As soon as his classes had ended, Yuri had gone to the restroom only to return to his bags missing and a gaudy note on his desk. He had no doubts who had written it.

_Yuri! If you want your bag back, come to Music Room #3. I have a surprise for you!_

That damn bastard. He’d gone too far.

On hand crushing the note in his hand and his face clenched into a fearsome glare, Yuri stalked down the hallways searching the correct music room. In his fury, he’d noticed the small brunette too late and had bumped into her. Well, more specifically, Haruhi had bumped into his chest and was now rubbing her nose.

His irritation faded slightly in favors of worry. Haruhi was a nice girl, she’d helped him out. He didn’t want to chase her away when she’d be a good friend. Thankfully the girl recovered quickly.

“I’m fine, Yuri-senpai.’ She looked up at him curiously, a hand still on her nose as she watched the now awkward Yuri. “But what’s gotten into you?”

Yuri grit his teeth. “Some asshole took my bag. I wanted to finish my homework before I left.”

Haruhi’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, well at least I know where it is. I’ll make that idiot pay.” Yuri said darkly before turning to her. “What about you?”

Haruhi sighed tiredly. “I was looking for a place to study but all four libraries are packed.”

“Fuck, really?” Yuri’s eyebrows shot up. The two began to walk together.

“Yeah.” Haruhi sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to find another place.”

“Well, I’m going to the music room to get my bags.” Yuri offered, remembering. “I was told it’s abandoned, so you can study there.”

“Really?” Haruhi perked up. “That’s great. Thanks Yuri-senpai.”

Yuri shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

Yuri led the way to the music room, frowning a little as the hallways became more and more empty. There was really no one here. It was frankly a little odd. After an hour of intense searching, because the dumbass who’d give Yuri directions had been a complete idiot with little sense of direction.

They both breathed out a sigh of relief when they saw the doors of the music room.

“Oh there it is.” Haruhi said and pushed the doors open. “Well I suppose this is the best we’ll get.”

She pushed the doors open only to cough as flower petals flew out of the room. She squinted a little to see six figures lounging around one another.

“Welcome!”

Haruhi froze. Yuri cursed.

“Huh?”

“What the fuck?!”

Yuri tried his best to recover from the sheer bullshit he was watching. It didn’t take him long to realize this was a host club. A host club? Really? _Here?_ These damn rich people had too much time on their hands. Didn’t they realize he had things to do?

As he stood there, trying to calm himself down he just barely noticed Haruhi being harassed by a certain blonde. _Him._

But before he could retaliate or interfere, Haruhi stumbled back, knocking over a large vase. Yuri cursed as he dove in to catch it. These fucking idiots, who put a vase in the middle of a room?!

“Fuck!”

Unfortunately he was unable to catch it in time and he watched as it shattered to pieces. He flinched slightly, feeling sorry for Haruhi who looked at it with horrified eyes. The poor girl. First getting harassed and then accidentally knocking over an expensive vase.

And judging by the glint of the glasses of a certain dark haired asshole standing to the side, Yuri knew she wasn’t getting off this easy.

“Aw.”

"We were going to feature that renaissance vase in an upcoming school auction."

"Oh, now you've done it, Commoner!" Yuri flinched as he noticed a pair of twins. Now that he looked at it, there was four other boys other than his two classmates. "The bidding on that vase was supposed to start at 8 Million Yen."

Yuri choked a little. “What the fuck?!”

Haruhi wasn’t much better off, looking a little faint. Yuri steadied the girl a little as she began to mutter to herself quickly, panicked eyes looking at her fingers. Yuri just kept on cursing in every language he knew. These fucking rich people! What use was there for such an expensive vase? It wasn’t even pretty!

Haruhi straightened, still looking a little faint. "Um, I'm gonna have to pay you back…"

"With what money? You can't even afford a school uniform."

Kyoya knelt down and picked up a piece of the broken vase. "Well, what do you think we should do Tamaki?"

_Wait…Tamaki?_

"There's a famous saying you may have heard of, Fujioka," A very familiar blonde said as he sat in a chair, crossing his legs. His mouth twisted into an infuriating smirk as he pointed at Haruhi. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Since you have no money, you can pay with your body. That means starting today, you're the Host Club's Dog!"

Haruhi froze in shock but Yuri didn’t see that, eyes zeroing on his target. Even as the rest of the Host Club members gathered around him, asking him questions, he ignored them. He only had eyes for the blonde Adonis.

Yuri grit his teeth, eyes narrowing.

He’d had a long day, from morning training to schoolwork in an unfamiliar language. He still had to get to the rink and had harsh training ahead of him. All he’d wanted was to return home quickly and rest for a while before going to the rink.

On top of all that, all Yuri saw wherever he looked was that infuriating pink.

It was pink, even more _pink._ Yuri would never see the color pink the same way again. He was fucking traumatized. And speaking of trauma…

His eyes zeroed in on a familiar blonde.

…By the time he was done with this idiot, trauma was going to the least of his problems.

“ _You.”_

Yuri growled, ignoring Haruhi’s flinch as he stalked towards Tamaki imperiously. To his credit, the blonde looked fearful. Yuri ignored the rest of the boys, eyes fixed on the blonde and blonde only. Tamaki squeaked.

Kyoya sighed. “What did you do now, Tamaki?”

Yuri’s glare was straight out of a horror movie and this point and he growled out a reply instead.

_“He stole my fucking bags!”_

“He did what?” Kyoya’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at Tamaki disapprovingly. “Explain yourself.”

“I-I thought Yuri would make a good host!”

“Let me guess, you thought the only way to bring him here was through stealing his bags.” Kyoya said flatly.

“It wasn’t stealing, it was borrowing!”

Silence.

Yuri was going to kill this guy.

“You fucking bastard!” Yuri grabbed his front and shook it imperiously. “You dipshit! I have better things to do that hang out with a dumbass like you!”

All of a sudden two pairs of arms grabbed him and held him back from killing the blonde there and then. The twins, he registering dully, as he snarled at the shivering Tamaki.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down there.”

“You can’t kill Boss.”

“Would you rather I fucking kill you?” Yuri said darkly and the twins exchanged a nervous look. “Let go of me _now._ ”

“Erm.”

“Yuri.” Kyoya’s disapproving voice came. “That’s enough. I understand your frustration but this is too much.”

“Oh really?” Yuri glared at him. “And just what are you going to do about it, you fucking asshole?”

“Whoa, he’s scary.” One of the twins murmured.

Kyoya’s eyes hardened, the irritation revealing itself. “Need I remind you, the vase is your fault as well. You weren’t able to catch it in time.”

There was a beat of silence and then two things happened. One, Yuri pulled out of the twins’ firm grasp with a speed unimaginable of his stature. Two, he launched himself at Kyoya, holding him by his collar as he glared at him darkly.

“ _How dare you_.” Yuri hissed. “You dare try to pin this on me? What do you think I am? An idiot? I know that fucking parasite wouldn’t have had the brains to do something like this! You’re the reason for this all! You think I haven’t seen you eying me like a fucking pervert all day?”

“You’re blaming me for the fucking vase when that fool was sexually harassing Haruhi? Do you even fucking realize what you’re saying?!”

Silence descended over the room as his words sunk in. Even Tamaki was silent, watching the duo with cautious eyes. Yuri vaguely registered movement in his peripheral but before he could react a familiar ringtone rang out. His deathly glare breaking, Yuri looked down at his pocket in slight confusion, eyes widening in realization as he picked it up, letting go of Kyoya’s front.

He didn’t notice both Mori and Honey relaxing, much closer to Yuri than they been before.

“Fuck!”

He cursed loudly as he picked up the phone quickly, breaking into English.

“-No, what? I’m fine. I’m coming over. No! Don’t come here!-”

“-I’m not fucking lost, you dumbass!-”

“-I got held up, don’t worry. Yeah I’m coming.”

The others could only catch the ends of Yuri’s fast conversation, watching as the Russian reassured someone on the other end of the call. It was kind of jarring, how the angry teen had suddenly calmed down. For a moment there they’d been scared he was actually going to hurt Kyoya. Mori had been ready to pull them apart.

As for Kyoya, he looked down at Yuri with startled eyes, clearly not having anticipated such a reaction. He knew Yuri was volatile, just not so much.

“-No, I haven’t killed anyone.” At those words everyone tensed since Yuri’s eyes were fixed on Kyoya pointedly. _Not yet._

“-I’ll be there in half an hour. I have to drop someone off.” Yuri rolled his eyes at something the caller said. “No, Viktor, I don’t have a girlfriend. How could I get a girlfriend on the first day, you idiot?!”

“-You know what, fuck off.” Yuri looked fed up. “I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

As soon as he canceled the call, everyone tensed. Yuri seemed to have calm down though, but the fury still burning in his eyes as he pinned Kyoya down with an imperious look.

“I’m going to ask this only once, you fucking dipshit -where are my fucking bags?”

Kyoya looked at him coldly. “In the storage room to the right.”

Yuri gave him an icy glare before turning on his feet and stalking off toward where they’d hidden his things. He emerged quickly, swinging his backpack over his shoulders and holding his duffle bag in one hand. He walked up to the still frozen Haruhi, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, dumbass. We’re leaving.”

Haruhi looked at him in slight shock. “Y-Yuri-senpai?”

Yuri snorted. “I’m not leaving you here, come on.”

Haruhi allowed herself to be pulled out of the music room. No one protested.

A few minutes after the two disappeared Tamaki cleared his throat awkwardly, making everyone look at him.

“We messed up.”

_No fucking shit._

(_)(_)(_)(_)

After dropping the still dazed Haruhi off to her apartment which was frankly quite close to the skating rink, Yuri found himself bombarded with dozens of questions from his guardians. Yuuri in particular looked quite worried when Yuri told him how Tamaki had run off with his bags.

“Yuri, they weren’t…you know…” Yuuri hadn’t finished the sentence but Yuri understood the Japanese skater well enough. Beside him, Viktor had a dark look on his face.

The idea of bullying was raised and both Viktor and Yuuri looked uncomfortable. Yuri shook his head though, telling them to calm down and that it wasn’t a big deal. It was a one off and it was probably the rich bastard’s idea of making friends.

“What? No! Don’t be an idiot!”

Both of them calmed down at Yuri’s reassurance and they began skating. But later, as Yuuri locked up the rink and Viktor and Yurio waited by their car, Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder and looked down at him seriously.

“Yura.” That caught the teen’s attention. “I want you to know you have our support. You’ll probably meet a lot of annoying people here who’ll make fun of you for not being as privileged as them.”

Yuri recovered from his initial surprise and scoffed. “No shit.”

“But Yura, money isn’t everything.” Viktor’s eyes glinted. “If they bother you, you should know you have the support of not one, but two Olympic skaters as well the FFKK. You’re an Olympic skater yourself, for goodness sake.”

Yuri frowned. “Vitya? You’re being weird.”

Viktor laughed a little. “Probably. I was in the same boat for a while after all.”

He gave a small chuckle at Yuri’s surprise. “Just don’t worry about it, okay? If there are any problems, you can come to me and Yuuri.”

Yuri grimaced but nodded when Viktor shot him a pointed look.

At dinner, Yuri explained his day in detail for the two, including his meeting with Haruhi. Viktor and Yuuri listened to his story calmly this time, both trusting Yuri to tell them if something was truly wrong. It seemed like it was going to be a peaceful dinner until Yuri offhandedly dropped the bomb.

“Oh yeah, and that Ootori bastard tried to get me to pay him four million yen.”

“WHAT?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of 'these damn rich people'!  
> I hope you liked this story! Do tell me what you think down in the comments below!


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